Where the rumours came from
by Dalcen
Summary: State Within - slash Mark/Nicholas - A dark past catches up with Mark as a dead horse is found in his swimming pool, however, the case might never be solved due to unexpected distraction.
1. Chapter 1

The dead horse in the swimming pool

'Do you seriously suspect that there is a reason for this? Don't you think it's just a prank?' Nicholas asked. He stood by the window looking out to the pool where the police and detectives were searching the area for evidence of the crime. He turned around and could not help smiling at the sick event. Mark sat in an armchair with a glass of scotch in his hand and a forehead creased by troubling thoughts.

'Why should anyone ever want to dump a dead animal in my swimming pool, getting in here with it least of all! Why bother if there wasn't a reason?' his full, British accent drifted as always silent and calculated into the room. Nicholas shrugged and went to the other armchair and sat down.

'The police asked whether you had a dead horse in your freezer,' he said.

'God,' Mark sighed and rolled his eyes. 'This is ridiculous.'

'But we must regard it with serious caution, there may be a very good reason,' said Nicholas.

'I very much doubt it,' Mark poured up the last contents of a Grant's and swallowed the drops. It was ten past two in the morning. 'I was supposed to sleep right now and then go to the meeting tomorrow. There wasn't supposed to be a dead horse in my swimming pool half an hour ago, that damn horse's just spoiled my day of peace.'

There was a knock on the door and a police officer followed by an agent stepped in. She was tall, striking, had auburn, wavy hair and chestnut eyes of a deer. Mark rose, placing the scotch on the table and held out his hand.

'Hi, you must be special agent Calleys,' he said.

'Call me Morgan,' the woman answered and also Nicholas turned to her and shook her hand. 'So, a dead horse in a swimming pool. Anyone here's got a theory?'

'Someone had a horse butchered, needed it dispatched, passed by and saw the pool,' said Nicholas. 'Maybe it was the mafia?'

'We have found a hole in the fence,' said Morgan, 'but no alarm's sounded as far as the guards say. And what's worse: the horse seems to have been killed on the grounds behind the house, out of sight below the trees back there. We found a plastic bag drenched in blood; it was thrown in the shrubbery.'

'Strange,' Nicholas mumbled and looked at Mark, who shook his head.

'Christ, this is getting nowhere,' said Mark. 'I don't have time to worry about dead horses and swimming pools, I have a job to do.'

'So do I, Sir,' said Morgan.

'Just check where it came from, who bought it and what that person did to it,' said Mark. Morgan sighed and looked at Nicholas for response, but Nicholas was watching Mark with an equally despondent expression. Morgan dismissed herself silently, leaving Mark and Nicholas in the room. The sirens disappeared out of the reach of their ears and they watched as the police deserted the area after taking the necessary samples; the security limits remained, the bonds flapping in the wind, thrashing and flying wildly. The rain had begun pouring down outside.

'No wonder they pack up now,' said Nicholas and went back to the window looking at the scenery through the gap between the bleached curtains.

'This has been the silliest night I've ever had, Nicholas,' Mark sighed and drained his glass. 'I'll be off to bed.' He gave a nod at Nicholas, who merely returned it, stiff and uncertain. Mark was too tired to notice this and walked out of the room, leaving Nicholas slightly cold.


	2. Chapter 2

The Past

The following day was as they always were to Mark, busy and full of things to do. Reception with a senator discussing the connection between the UK and the US, loads of phone calls to do and answering to a lot of problems on the embassy itself. The events were few and not very exciting, except from when special agent Calleys arrived at the afternoon to tell about the results of the investigation from last night.

'We have a maniac on the loose, it seems,' she said and placed some of the photos taken at the residence in front of Mark. Seems like it was more some part of a satanic ritual being done in your garden, Sir Mark,' she said. The photos showed blood spread in patterns on the tiles around the swimming pool. 'The horse itself belonged to a farmer in Michigan. Getting it here, preparing this and performing whatever ceremony it was has cost a lot of difficulty.'

'But why me?' Mark looked up at Morgan as Nicholas bent over and examined the photos before letting them back to the special agent.

'You've never been involved in any religious sect or cult?' Morgan asked.

'Certainly not! That would be like destroying my career most definitely.'

'Do you know anyone with tendencies to stray to such gatherings?' Morgan asked. Mark was speechless and could not really answer, feeling stunned and too confused to answer.

'I do,' said Nicholas silently. 'Or did.' Both Morgan and Mark looked at him as he straightened up and looked from the one to the other. 'His name's Alex Kornovsky. He's a Russian madman, escaped the Sovjet Union after being chased by the authorities for breaching laws and denying the communist government. He's never returned, he doesn't trust anyone.'

'And what, pray tell, is this Russian madman doing with a butchered horse and loads of bloody patterns all over my terrace?' Mark asked through clenched teeth scarcely able to believe what his friend said.

'I don't know, it's been more than eight years since I spoke to him last,' said Nicholas.

'The symbols, Mr Brocklehurst, do you know them?' Morgan asked.

'No, I remember seeing them in some books he had, but I don't know what they mean,' Nicholas answered and looked at Mark. 'I'm sorry, I never thought I was to see that fellow again. Having him on your tail is quite disturbing.'

'I could imagine that,' Mark sighed and looked down at the photos again. 'What'll he do next? Smear my front door in blood?'

The intercom sent out a gentle beep. Mark leaned over to the speaker. 'What is it, Sally?'

'There's been a report on seeing a strange man walking around the premises of the residence. The police where unable to catch him, but before he was discovered and ran he had luck to empty a bucket of blood on your door and doorsteps.'

Mark closed his eyes. 'Thank you, Sally, I'm sure special agent Calleys will investigate the case further,' he eyed Morgan sharply and the connection to the intercom ended. 'So, Morgan, is there a reason your men can't catch this maniac?'

'He must be extremely clever, we put guards around all of the residence!' Morgan said like she did not believe what she had just heard.

'Go and find out what's happening, maybe find someone to clean the mess,' said Mark and leaned back into the chair.

'Yes,' Morgan rose and was about to leave when she stopped at the door and turned. 'This Alex Kornovsky, where does he live?' she asked.

'Last time I checked, which is years ago, he lived in New York,' Nicholas answered, 'but I can't remember where.'

Morgan nodded and left. Mark sighed and shook his head to free himself from the immense load of disbelieve and confusion weighing heavily on his mind. He looked at Nicholas, who leaned against the table top, arms crossed and forehead creased.

'You knew this?' Mark asked.

'No, of course not! Don't be ridiculous, Mark, I had as good as forgotten that maniac,' said Nicholas.

'How did you meet?' Mark asked.

'In a bar, once,' said Nicholas. 'He's a good-looking fellow…' Mark rolled his eyes. 'Don't give me that look, Mark! Yes, we met and talked over a bottle of scotch, about everything and nothing. I accidentally slipped him my number and he called me back, the thing you least expect people to do when drinking and giving someone your number. The booze hadn't hit him at all whereas I had the worst hangovers in human history. He was an exceptional man, full of wit and wild temper, and yet he could be as gentle as a lamb. We met, it was half a year, until he began to travel abroad and we lost contact. He was already in the strange sect or cult or whatever he was a part of, he even tried to recruit me into it, but I didn't. He deserted me. Later I overheard a conversation where his name was mentioned, it was two years ago or so. He had been let out of prison in a small, European country, can't remember what it was called. Well, he had been involved with some paedophilia and a lot of greasy stuff, and as far as I could hear he was coming back to the states at that time. What's happened since then and till now is unclear.'

Mark had listened with closed eyes as Nicholas had recounted the little tale. He finally opened his eyes and looked at his friend.

'You're telling me you're acquainted with a psycho paedophile and possible maniac?' he asked.

'Once, I knew him before it all went wrong, ok? I've never had dealing with him since we parted eight years ago or so,' said Nicholas.

'Then how could you know where he lived?'

'That was then too, Mark, I have no idea about his whereabouts these days,' said Nicholas.

'What was the sect about?'

'Satanic rituals, rituals involving sacrifices of animals and rather violent sex,' said Nicholas with a heavy sigh. 'Seems like he got his ideas from there.'

'Why's he coming back here?' Mark asked. 'Could there be something he wants to finish, someone to see? And why my home?' he buried his face in his hands.

'Easy, Mark,' said Nicholas. 'Let's hope they catch him. He's none of our concern.'

Mark eyed him thoughtfully. 'Let's hope so.'


	3. Chapter 3

A light in the dark

Coming home, seeing his house full of police and remembering what Nicholas had told him, Mark was more nervous than usual. While Nicholas tried to get some order to the chaos, he left to his private rooms and refused to answer calls and messages until there was more peace around him. Finally Nicholas joined him in the study.

'Guards have been doubled, doubt anyone can get through now,' he said as he looked at Mark, who sat by the desk signing a pair of forms.

'Good,' Mark put down the pen and lifted his eyes from the paper and to Nicholas. In the glow his friend's eyes were kind and understanding. 'Care to join me for dinner? There's no reception tonight and it would be too odd for me to be all alone. Jennifer is a bit distressed and Sally and Nasreen have some things to see to at the embassy and won't be contacting me until tomorrow.'

'Sure,' a smile spread on Nicholas' thin lips returning Mark's. 'I'd like that.'

They had a late night's dinner in a far-off room with view to the less crowded part of the garden. They sat at each end of the long table enjoying a nice dinner, listening to the rain thunder on the windows, seeing the flicker of the candles in the dim glow of the overhead lights.

'Phil suggests you take some time off,' said Nicholas, being the first to empty his plate as a servant came and served another glass of red wine for him.

'Yes, well, let Phil suggest what he suggests,' said Mark quietly, draining his second glass.

'Is this so unsettling to you?' Nicholas asked as the servant poured Mark another glass of wine and left

'Why shouldn't it be?' Mark looked over the candelabrum to Nicholas. 'I mean, death threats by letters or anonymous phone calls, package bombs and the like, I can handle that, but this, well, it's quite disturbing, yes.'

'He's just a madman, the police will capture him and he'll have a mental treatment,' said Nicholas and lifted his glass. 'Cheers.' Mark returned the toast but he did not feel up to a cheery mood.

'Can you tell me more about this stranger friend of yours?'

'Not really,' Nicholas answered. 'I never knew what he was doing, never got to know him truly during the half year I was with him.' Mark managed a smile and shook his head with a silent attitude. 'You think it's funny?'

'Well, I'd like to know what kind of person I'd be dealing with before engaging any kind of relationship,' Mark eyed Nicholas with a dark glance, and something in his eyes made Nicholas' heart skip a beat.

'Oh, well, right you are,' he said. 'I was stupid then, it won't happen again.'

'No, I certainly don't hope so,' Mark said and lifted his glass this time with a genuine smile. 'No more mistakes.'

'Never again!'

After dinner they withdrew to the Mark's private rooms again and spent the time for once, with Phil as a stand-in for emergency calls at the embassy, listening to music, having more than two drinks. Mark's mood brightened considerably, but he knew he could not let his boundaries slack too much, no matter how many precautions he had taken to ensure himself a bit of peace.

'It's incredible we've held on to each other for so long, don't you think?' Mark asked as they had just finished a game of chess. He had beaten Nicholas cruelly in few draws.

'All eight years, yes,' said Nicholas with a nod and leaned back in the chair.

Mark rose, staggered slightly on his heavy legs and went for a refill from the bottle on the drawer under the oval mirror. He watched Nicholas in its reflection, seeing the eyes follow him intensely, with their blue keenness and restless vigilance. A light, nice shiver ran down his spine. At the other end of the room he could see the curtains flicker in the draft and the lights from the spot lights on his house hitting the upper frame of the windows.

Nicholas rose slowly and approached as Mark turned and offered him the glass, but his interest seemed somewhere else than in the drink.

'I think I've been lucky having a friend like you, Mark,' he said.

'Well, cheers to that,' Mark toasted.

'Mark, seriously, I mean it,' said Nicholas with a firm voice. 'It's not a joke.'

'Well, the time isn't exactly for being sentimental, is it?' Mark asked. He was about to smile, but not even the muscles around his lips made it to react before Nicholas had leaned in and kissed him gently. It was light at first, merely lips touching lips, nose tips colliding awkwardly, the taste of alcohol subtle and fine on the lips. Mark knew he was in troubled water, but Nicholas steered him gently, letting his tongue strike the lips before parting them enough to enter. It was wonderful, pure emotion and Mark felt inclined to go on, sensing some adventure getting closer. The thrill was unmistakable and made him shiver in excitement as he felt the stiffness press on his clothes. He knew Nicholas felt the same, and he withdrew to look at his friend with the questioning, exploring, enthralled eyes. Their lips collided again, this time stronger, more insistent and heartfelt. Fingers flew to the buttons of the shirts, loosened the ties, slipped off trousers and underpants until they both lay on the soft carpet in front of the fireplace, kissing fiercely, panting heavily into each other's mouths, hands grasping for sensitive places.

At one point they stopped, both aware that this would be a great part of them forthwith, Nicholas hoping to achieve or gain something, Mark unable to thoroughly understand what was going on. He felt a shift, turned around on his stomach and the next thing he knew was the unexplainable pleasure and extreme pressure down his back side. Nicholas went in, one inch, stopping, the next inch, stopping, drawing out full and then back to where he had stopped and so forth and so on until the passage was clear and there was nothing left but full excitement and pleasure.

The climax came faster than expected and they both collapsed on the carpet, Nicholas drawn up in Mark's arm and their silent sighs and diminishing heavy breath escaping their lips. They did not speak, only looked at each other, kissing now and then, making it happen again this time with Nicholas below Mark, who was near fainting from the incredible sense of pleasure he experienced. He did not mind the stains on the carpet; he did not flinch at a slightly violent kiss or quick, stabbing pain down his back. It was full of raw desire and unexpected kindness.

They fell asleep with a woollen blanket over them, arm in arm, drunk on their lust and irresistible love for each other.


	4. Chapter 4

Loose ends

Mark awoke in the earliest of morning. At first he wondered where the bed had gone until he looked at the dying glows of the fireplace and remembered it all as a slightly throbbing headache broke down the benefits of the memory. And it was not just his head which was hurting.

He sat up, slowly. In the darkness he was not sure what to make of his surroundings, but a chess board on the table with a white king toppled over and two half-empty glasses on the table beside him told him enough of tonight's story. He felt Nicholas twist beside him and in the dim morning light he saw the face, calm and innocent, almost like an angel.

He heard the phone ring and rose to dress, shoving his clothes under the rug in case a servant would enter and see Nicholas on the floor. He found his dressing gown and went to the desk where he sat down. The intercom beeped gently.

'Yes, Sally?' he said and twitched in the seat; it hurt quite a lot sitting down.

'Special agent Calleys's here to see you.'

'Tell her to wait in the lounge, I'll be down in five minutes,' Mark answered and the connection was ended. He rose again and went to his cupboard, finding clothes fit for another day's work. He then found his way to the bathroom, enjoyed a steaming hot shower while trying to figure out what to do about the situation. Maybe it was best not to let it go on, but who couldn't possibly let that happen having just enjoyed one of his life's most tantalizing experiences?

He dressed and walked back to the room where Nicholas was up and going, dressed and already making a call on his mobile when Mark stepped in. Their eyes met shortly, Nicholas smiled and Mark managed one too. It felt good. Their eyes weren't quite the same, a bit more absent, thoughtful, wary and calculated, but the feeling of seeing each other and the reciprocated glance and smile felt genuine and good. Nicholas ended the call and went to the desk where Mark had sat down.

'Who was it?' Mark asked, logging in on his computer.

'A police officer,' said Nicholas. 'The blood has been tracked back to the dead horse as well, and it's been confirmed that it was missing from a farm in Michigan.'

'Right, special agent Calleys is in the lounge, I was about to go and see her,' said Mark checking the mails he had got during his hours off work. He rose and picked up a bundle of papers and was about to pass Nicholas when his friend grabbed his arm and looked in his eyes.

'Thanks for… a good night,' Nicholas said. Mark looked into the blue eyes and smiled, kind and honest.

'You too,' he said.

'You want me to come with you?' Nicholas asked.

'I can handle her,' Mark pushed Nicholas' hand off gently but felt awkward at the thought of actually giving him a kiss or something along the lines of it. Nicholas took the initiative and placed a warm kiss on Mark's lips. It was sweet and almost dragged him off to a world without worries when there was a loud knock on the door and Jennifer stepped in. They had managed to break the kiss at the shock and now merely looked as if they had been discussing something.

'Sir, the agent is impatient,' she said. 'And the embassy is waiting.' She looked at Nicholas. 'I didn't see you come in this morning, Mr Brocklehurst.'

'I never left,' Nicholas gave a grin. 'Right, give me news from the intelligence office and Mark'll handle the embassy after the agent.'

'Oh, you sure know how to schedule my day!' Mark snorted and turned to Jennifer. 'One minute, I'll be down.' Jennifer nodded and left the room. Mark looked back at Nicholas. 'Do you… seriously… think this can continue?'

'Why shouldn't it?' Nicholas asked.

'We're colleagues,' said Mark. 'If it's discovered…'

'It won't be.'

'Right.' Mark smiled. 'You go and take a shower and then be down as fast as possible. Let's get to business.'

Mark came down to the lounge where Morgan Calleys was admiring some of the paintings. She turned and smiled at him.

'Oh, Sir Mark, good to see you,' she said. 'Now, we have just heard that the man, known as Alexander Koronovsky has been arrested for a brawl in a bar this night. Seemingly he is a crazed, old rascal and is being put to some mental ward. He thinks that he could read the devil's presence in the air around your house and that he was supposed to have come into being this night, but,' Morgan shrugged, 'seems he was off into his own world. He can't distinguish between reality and fiction. We'll be keeping him in the ward until it's safe for him to get out again.'

'Thank you very much, Mrs Calleys,' said Mark.

'Miss,' said Morgan.

'Forgive me,' Mark smiled.

'So, let's hope you keep your tail clean of maniacs forthwith!' she said and looked up to the stair where Nicholas descended now and came down to them. 'Goodbye.'

'Goodbye, and thank you once again.'

Morgan left and Mark turned to look at Nicholas. 'That was easy.'

'Yes, and there aren't any critical things at the embassy today,' he grinned.

'Life's wonderful.'

'Indeed.'

The End


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